


The Many Deaths of Klaus Hargreeves

by Raven_Rose22



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Drug Use, Explicit Language, Gen, Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Injury, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves Whump, Major Character Injury, Protective Klaus Hargreeves, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Siblings, Sick Klaus Hargreeves, Violence, klaus has a heart of gold
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26166613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_Rose22/pseuds/Raven_Rose22
Summary: Klaus Hargreeves came back from the dead at least once, that we know of... but just how many times has he actually crossed the veil and been pushed back?
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Everyone, Klaus Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 44
Kudos: 249





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Back again for more! Its been a hot minute since I last wrote, and I realized just how much I miss it. This little plot bunny got into my brain and would not go away until I started writing! I'm not sure how long this fic will be, but as long as I can keep coming up with ideas, I will keep posting. I hope you all enjoy! any and all feedback is greatly appreciated.
> 
> Va Por Ti Tita y Michelle, Las Extraño.

The Many Deaths of Klaus Hargreeves

One-

There’s only one person who remembers Klaus’ first death, and even then, she didn’t even know who he was or more importantly, why he was. 

She had been on her way to a club, dressed to the nines, wanting nothing more than to hook up with someone and have a great time. One moment she was walking down the silent alley way, the next there was a horrible pain in her stomach and she fell to the ground. Her beautiful dress torn at the seams from her expanded pregnant belly. Pregnant?! How? She couldn’t be. But she was, she had gone through this before, the pain, the contractions, the feeling like you were about to die, yet wanting to live for the wonderful creation coming out of you. 

All she could think was, not again. She couldn’t deal with the loss of another one. Not that she had been pregnant before the day started. All she could do was scream in pain as another big contraction struck her. She heard someone approach her, and turned her head to see a homeless woman watching as she bent down to help her. 

“Stay calm, breathe” She heard the woman whisper to her. 

She tried but all she could do was scream as she felt the need to push. The woman reached under her dress and helped her get into position to deliver the baby. She screamed and pushed until the baby was born. 

The woman held onto the baby, who was not moving, was not crying, who had the umbilical cord wrapped around its little neck, his little neck, she noticed. 

“Nein!” She screamed. “Nein, nicht schon wieder” (no, not again).

The woman handed her the baby, the dead baby, and without looking back, ran away back into the alley. 

All she could do was stare at the tiny baby in her arms. Once more, life had given her life only to take it away in a second. She had no idea how this baby came to be, and no idea why it had to be her that it came to. She hadn’t been pregnant; this baby could not be hers. She had no responsibility with this baby. 

This baby was dead.

She made a choice. 

No one had to know, this was a strange occurrence that no one could ask about, or know about. She was in an alley where anyone else could have left this baby.

She wasn’t to blame. 

She left the baby behind, gathered what was left of her dress, and went back home. 

It wasn’t until after she had left, that the police were called. There had been screams heard from a neighbor and they were sent to investigate. Instead of finding a woman, they found a tiny baby.

It was crying. 

The police were unable to find a mother, or anyone to claim the baby. So when a wealthy man showed up and asked if he could take the child, they let him.

That was Klaus’ Hargreeves first death, his birth.

And it only got worse from there.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the warm welcome back! I will try to post chapters as often as I can! I'm not sure how long this fic will be, but as long as I can keep coming up with ideas, I will keep posting. I hope you all enjoy! any and all feedback is greatly appreciated.
> 
> Va Por Ti Tita y Michelle, Las Extraño.

Two- 

Klaus has no memory of his second death either. 

After all he was still a baby. Not even able to hold up his own head. 

Brielle had been hired by Sir Reginald Hargreeves as a baby sitter. She was not overly experienced with children, but the man paid a lot to take care of his children. He was a strange man. Brielle wasn’t sure what to make of a man who adopted seven children, only to call them by number instead of a name. 

All of the caretakers, Sir Reginald did not approve of the term baby sitter, were to follow a strict schedule. There were activities, tight schedules, and rules that each of the caretakers were to follow to the letter. It was all a bit creepy, to try to schedule diaper changes for babies, but the money was good, so who was she to complain. 

She was in charge of baby number 4. He was precious, little light eyes, dark hair, and a mostly calm disposition. 

He was an easy baby, much easier than number one, who cried non-stop on most days, and not as scary as number seven who didn’t cry, but stared a lot. For a small baby, she seemed to stare deep into your soul. 

Brielle was changing Klaus and getting him ready for the night when it happened. She had dropped the baby powder and the bottle rolled away from the table. She walked away for less than a minute. 

She wasn’t to blame.

She heard the thud as she reached under the table and grabbed the powder. She quickly turned around and held back a scream. 

Number four was on the floor. His neck looked like it was on the wrong angle. He was still, he wasn’t crying.

She rushed over to the baby, almost afraid to touch him. She picked him up, he remained still.

She put him back on the table and straightened his neck. The sound that came from that tiny body as the bone realigned would haunt her for the rest of her life. She tried to do some CPR on the tiny infant, but knew deep down it was too late. 

The baby was dead. Number four was dead.

She froze. 

What was she supposed to do now? Sir Reginald Hargreeves had already gotten rid of a caregiver for allowing the children to listen to Barney instead of Mozart. What would he do to her for killing one of his precious numbers?

She looked back at the baby, other than being completely still; he looked like he was sleeping. 

A lot of babies went to bed and just didn’t wake up. SIDS was a terrible tragedy that happened to many children all around the world. 

She made her choice.

She quickly changed the baby into sleeping clothes and placed him in his crib. Thankfully all of the children had already been put to bed by the time she got there. She placed the baby into his crib, he looked perfect, tiny little baby peacefully sleeping. 

She ran her hand along the baby’s face for a moment, holding back tears as she mentally apologized to the baby. She slowly backed away from the crib, tears falling from her face.

That night, she packed all of her belongings and left the house. She booked a flight as far away from the academy as she could find and never looked back. She would never take care of children again, at least not in that way. She would be haunted by the sounds of items falling on the floor and people cracking their knuckles. 

If only she had known that the moment she left the academy, the academy was woken by little number four crying incessantly. When another nanny picked up the child, they noticed a large bruise on number four’s neck. 

Number four was alive, a little sore and bruised, but would make a full recovery. 

Sir Reginald marked it up to incompetence from the caretaker who had left, and made sure to install security cameras to better assess how the children were being taken care of. It wouldn’t do for his assets to be harmed without him knowing exactly how and who hurt them. They were an investment after all. 

That was the second death of Klaus Hargreeves. Thankfully no one but a child lawyer named Brielle would ever remember the event.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Concerns? Let me know!!


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your comments and Kudos!! Grad school is a lot of work, so chapters will be posted as often as I can. I hope you all enjoy! Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated.
> 
> Also in my headcannon, the Hargreeves didn't get their names until Grace named them which is why I refer to them by their numbers in this chapter.   
> Va Por Ti Tita y Michelle, Las Extraño.

Three-

If you were to ask Klaus about this, he would probably say this was just a dream, not a memory.

He had just turned three and had been sent to dinner for doing something unseemly, like acting like a three year old child. Something that Sir Reginald Hargreeves would not tolerate. 

Klaus had been staring at the figure on the entrance to the dining room, he had been scared. He didn’t understand why his imaginary friends were so scary. Number Three said her friend had rainbow hair like Lisa Frank. Number Five said he would talk to someone smart and funny. 

Why were all of his friends scary and bloody??

Sir Reginald had seen him being distracted and had called him out, “Number Four, we are in here to eat dinner, if you do not wish to do so you will be sent to your room without dinner.” 

He had tried, honest.

But when the lady with the bleeding head started to whisper his name, he once again looked at her.

“Leave the table, Number Four.”

He tried to protest, he was very hungry after all, and it’s just hard to concentrate on food when a bleeding lady is whispering your name. 

It wasn’t the first bloody person he had seen, but they had never talked before. They usually just stood there and stared at him, you know, when they had eyes. 

“But-” he started to protest, but stopped when Number Six gave him a scared look and slightly shook his head.

“I will not repeat myself Number Four.” His Father didn’t even glance up from his plate.

He slowly stood up and walked away from the table, making sure to go around the bleeding lady. Thankfully she didn’t follow him, just kept whispering and staring at him.

Only once he made it back to his room did he realize just how hungry he was. He would have to wait until after everyone went to bed to sneak down into the kitchen. 

He waited patiently for the sounds of his siblings coming downstairs and getting ready for bed. He was glad there was now only one caretaker living with them. She was strange and liked to sing French tunes, but at least she tried to be nice and was easy to sneak past. 

Once she tucked everyone in bed Number Four knew he just had to wait for a little bit longer to be able to sneak out.

His tummy was growling and he really wanted to eat some food. Once he heard Number One start to snore, he knew he was in the clear. No one would be able to hear him if he was snoring!

He knew there were security cameras around, but he had sometimes left his bed to get water and his father never said anything. He just had to pretend to be getting water and sneak something out of the fridge. 

He made his way to the kitchen and found a cup on the counter. He pulled the fridge open and saw there were some sausage links in a plate, probably meant for next morning’s breakfast. His stomach growled loudly and he snuck in a few in his tiny hand as he poured himself a glass of water from the cold pitcher. 

He knew the security cameras would see him if we went back to his room, so unless he wanted to eat in the bathroom, there was no way he could avoid being seen. 

Unless…

He looked at the table and had a thought. Father probably didn’t put cameras under the table! He snuck underneath the table and looked around, if he couldn’t see a camera that meant it couldn’t see him!

Once he settled comfortably under the table, he pulled the links out of his pocket. He was so hungry. He quickly finished one link and started on a second one. He had gotten through 3 of them and finished his water. As he pulled the last link, he tore off a bigger piece. He was about to start chewing it when he saw another figure looking at him. 

Was it his father? No, his father was thinner and not as tall. Then the figure turned around, it didn’t have a face, and in its place was a bloody mess. 

He was scared, terrified really.

He gasped as if to scream. 

The piece of food in his mouth made its way to his throat and got stuck.

He couldn’t breathe.

He wasn’t to blame. 

Number four tried to call out for help, but no sound left his mouth. He tried to get the piece out of his throat, but only scratched his neck in the process. 

The figure just stared at him, didn’t move, didn’t help. Number Four was kind of glad his vision stated to fade, that way he wasn’t looking at the bloody mess in front of him.

No one heard or saw Number Four slump forward, lips blue and eyes vacant. No one but the figure who stayed there, whispering to Number Four.

Next thing Number Four knew, he was in a forest, but the forest was not in color. That was strange. He looked around, he wasn’t sure what was happening, but he saw in color, so this must be a dream.

He heard a bell coming from behind him and a girl on a bike came up to him.

“Hello” He said to her, she looked upset but not surprised to see him there. 

“You shouldn’t be here” she told him, “why do you come here?”

“I’m sorry; I don’t know where I am, so I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to be here.” he looked at his hands, worried he was going to get in trouble.

“It’s not your fault.” She got off the bike and sat down next to him, “Would you like to play?”

Number Four looked up in excitement, but then slumped.

“I’m not supposed to play, not until our playtime which is at the end of the week.”

She sighed and shook her head, “Don’t worry, no one will know we played, I don’t even think you will. But we can play until you have to go back.”

“And no one will know?”

“No one, I promise.”

Number Four played with his newfound friend for what felt like hours. She was much nicer than his other imaginary friends. She wasn’t bleeding, or whispering, or just staring at him. She was nice. 

After a while he felt a strange feeling in his stomach, as if something was pulling at him from inside. 

She must have seen something on his face, “Looks like time’s up. You have to go back now.”

“But I wanna stay and play.” He said pouting.

“I know you do, but it just doesn’t work that way with you, for some reason. This is the third time and although you somehow end up here, you have to go back. I can’t stop it.”

“Okay”

“I hope I don’t see you here again Number Four, at least not for a while.” She reached out and gave him a hug. 

He melted into the embrace and felt himself being pulled back.

He woke up under the table, the link shooting out of his mouth and coughing loudly.

It must have been a while because once he stopped coughing he saw the caretaker rushing towards him, sunlight starting to make its way through the window. 

“Oh Mon Dieu, Number Four, what is wrong. Your neck is bleeding. Can you speak?”

Number Four tried, but his throat felt very tight and he could not get anything out. 

Pogo examined him and determined he must have gotten a sore throat from sleeping on the cold floor of the kitchen. 

He wasn’t able to swallow solid food for a few days, but at least the soups he ate were warm and tasty.

He wasn’t sure what had happened.

It seemed like a strange dream. 

After that day, by some unexplainable reason, he couldn’t stand sausage links. Even the smell turned his stomach. Even if he got in trouble, he didn’t touch another one if he could avoid it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> would you guys mind if from here onwards, the chapters are out of order?  
> I keep thinking of ideas, but I realize they wouldn't fit in with the timeline! let me know!! Thank You!!!!


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I am so sorry for the long delay in this chapter! Grad school is kicking my ass and its hard to keep up! Thank you everyone for your comments and Kudos!! Grad school is a lot of work, so chapters will be posted as often as I can. I hope you all enjoy! Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated.  
> Va Por Ti Tita y Michelle, Las Extraño.

Four- Eight

Klaus was seven years old and he was screwed.

Mom had let them have a bit of extra-curricular playtime since their father had gone out for a meeting. They had all decided to play tag inside the house. They weren’t supposed to use their powers because it was cheating to rumor someone into freezing, Allison! And Five really shouldn’t be allowed to play at all since he was now getting better at his special jumps. Luther was always strong, so there really was no way to even the playing field there. 

They had been playing for a while, mom told them they had until supper was almost ready to play. After all, their father would return promptly for a 7:00 pm supper. 

He had been about to tag Number Five, he had reached out to tag him, and then Five vanished in a flash of blue. Klaus was so focused on reaching Five; he forgot the vase at the end of the hallway.

He didn’t notice the front door opening, he didn’t notice all his siblings making themselves scarce, he didn’t notice his father entering the academy. He was too busy crashing into the vase. His hand, which would have tagged Five, slammed into the vase and came crashing down. 

The sound of the vase shattering was deafening. Klaus could actually hear it over the man missing half of his torso. 

He tried to roll away from the broken pieces, but failed. He felt the ceramic pieces dig and cut into his arms, hands, and his legs. He held back the scream of pain and instead gasped. He held still, trying to come back to himself from the pain.

Then he heard the yelling. Not just yelling, his father yelling.

“Number Four! What is the meaning of this?” 

Klaus tried to answer, but all he could do was try not to scream as he felt his father pick him up by the back of his shirt. He felt bits of the vase fall from his body, falling from the cuts on his arms and legs. 

He opened his eyes to see mom walking from the kitchen, probably responding to both the crash and the yelling.

“Oh dear, look at the state of you. We better go take care of those cuts.” She walked towards him with her hand stretched out and had almost reached him, when her hand was slapped away. 

“I will not have you coddle him. He has destroyed my property and will be punished.” Klaus tried to hold back tears, not sure if he was crying from fear or pain.

“But dad, he didn’t mean to-”

“Silence Number Six, unless you also wish to share the punishment.” 

Ben opened his mouth to reply, but closed it as Klaus shook his head at him. Klaus looked away and met eyes with Five, who looked guilty, and also shook his head at him. There was no point in anyone else getting in trouble.

“I expect this mess to be cleaned up by the time I return.” He said, dragging Klaus by his side, he turned to mom, “I expect you to have supper prepared by the time I return and to leave the mess to them.” 

Mom just shifted her gaze to the floor and nodded.

Klaus felt tears leave his eyes as he was dragged from the foyer and back to the front door. 

That’s when he knew what his punishment was.

The mausoleum.

“No, dad please no! Send me to bed without supper. Make me clean up the mess. Please anything but that!” Klaus dragged his feet and struggled against his father’s grip. But the man was strong and much larger than he.

His father had started his, ‘special training’ once he realized what Klaus’ powers were. He was convinced that Klaus would be able to do much more than just see and hear the dead. Once he realized just how terrified Klaus was of it, he used it as a punishment, convinced that it would eventually lead to him not being afraid of the dead.

It did not work. 

As his father dragged him outside and down the stairs, completely ignoring his pleas and struggles, Klaus felt blood run from the cuts on his body. They were not deep, but they were bleeding and quite painful. 

As they reached the mausoleum, Klaus was sobbing, still pleading with his father to pick any other punishment. 

“Silence. You are to remain here until morning. That is what you deserve not only for your disobedience, but also for destroying a priceless piece of art.” With those words, his father pushed him into the mausoleum.

Klaus fell to his knees, this time not holding back the yelp at the painful landing. He turned around and ran to the door, only to have it slam in his face.

He pounded at the door and yelled for his father to come back. He yelled until his voice broke and the tears came. He pounded at the door until the cuts on his hands reopened and started bleeding again. He stood there until his legs gave out.

That’s when the screaming from the dead started. They were angry. The spirits in this mausoleum were always so angry. They yelled and screamed and demanded things from Klaus, demanded answers he did not have. 

They screamed so much and no matter what Klaus tried they would not get quiet. He covered his ears with his hands, but all that did was get blood on his face. He fell to the floor once more and curled in on himself, hoping if he was smaller, maybe they wouldn’t see him. Maybe they would stop. 

Klaus wasn’t sure why it happened. 

Maybe it was the fact that he was so afraid. Maybe it was the fact that he was in so much pain. Maybe it was an overload of both those things. 

Something happened.

It wasn’t his fault.

Klaus, still curled in on himself, felt a shock of electricity through his body. For a second everything was quiet. 

He uncurled and looked up. The spirits in the mausoleum stared at him. He stared back, noticing they looked different. There was a blue glow surrounding them. The same glow surrounded his hands.

One of them reached out towards him and Klaus stepped back in pure instinct. He bumped into the woman who was behind him.

He bumped into her. He could touch her. 

There was a moment of pure shock as the realization struck.

If he could touch them, they could touch him.

“No…”

Klaus opened and closed his hands, trying to shake off the blue glow.

It didn’t work. 

Then, they pounced on him. 

He felt dozens of hands pulling at him, shoving him, pushing him. He was so overwhelmed. He wanted it to stop, but the blue glow only seemed to get brighter and brighter.

He was pushed and pulled and yelled at as they all wanted his attention. They seemed to think that because they could now touch him, he would help them now. All he could do was scream and yell for them to go away, to back off. He yelled for help, he screamed, he begged for someone to come and save him. 

He felt a hand cover his mouth. He couldn’t yell anymore. 

His uniform was tearing from all the pulling and scratching from the spirits. He felt his feet leave the floor as one of the spirits lifted him. He felt the struggle as another one tried to take him. He felt a shove as one of them pushed the other. He felt his head make contact with the stone wall. 

Then he felt nothing.

“I’m sorry you’re back here again” 

He opened his eyes to a forest, but the forest was not in color. He felt the forest on his body, but his head was resting on a girl’s lap. She was pretty.

“You’re pretty.” He said looking up at her, “where is here? who are you?” 

She smiled sadly at him and started running her fingers through his hair. He liked it when mom did that. She usually did it when he was sick or hurt, and it always comforted him.

“Don’t worry Klaus; just close your eyes and rest. I promise no one will hurt you here.”

He wasn’t sure why he believed her. Maybe it was because she was pretty. She was nice and there was no yelling, so he did as she asked. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sounds of nature around him. 

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there with his eyes closed as she played with his hair. It seemed like a lifetime and like less than a second.

“Klaus, its time. You have to go back now.”

He opened his eyes, “But I don’t want to go back. Can’t I stay here?”

She smiled sadly once more, “I’m sorry, but it’s not that time yet. I hope I don’t see you so soon again.”

She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the forehead. He closed his eyes and tried to savor the last moments of peace.

He woke up to a Pogo shaking him gently. There was a small puddle of blood underneath him and he was cold and sore. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up Master Klaus. It looks like some of those cuts bled a bit while you slept.” Pogo sounded sad. He leaned over and helped Klaus get to his feet. He helped support Klaus all the way to the infirmary where mom and he cleaned and bandaged all of his cuts.

Mom sent him to bed to rest and told him his father had said he was allowed to miss morning training but would be expected for lunch. 

He made his way to his room, wanting to lie down and rest. He was almost at his bedroom when Five suddenly appeared in front of him.

He looked at Klaus and all the bandages that covered him.

“I’m sorry.” He turned and opened Klaus’ door for him. He helped Klaus get into bed and pulled the blanket over him. 

He turned to leave but looked back at Klaus. He opened his mouth to say something but frowned and closed it again.

“Thank you for taking the blame. I’m sorry you got hurt.” He closed the door and with a flash of blue, Klaus was alone. Well, as alone as he was in this house.

Klaus turned to face the ceiling and tried to get comfortable. His pillow felt too soft under his head and he wished mom was there to play with his hair. He closed his eyes and went to sleep.

He dreamt of a pretty girl with a sad smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Concerns? Let me know!!

**Author's Note:**

> Whatcha think? want to read more??


End file.
